


Bring It On

by synvamp



Category: RWBY
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Banter, Fighting foreplay, Flirting, Hints of Smut, M/M, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synvamp/pseuds/synvamp
Summary: Qrow heads off to the training room after a long and frustrating day to work off a little tension. It is super effective X’D
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 82





	Bring It On

\---xxx---

Another day in Atlas done. One more day of towing the damn line.

Trying not to scream at how cooped up and chained down the whole wretched city made him feel.

The arrogance. The time wasting. The endless posturing. It was enough to test the patience of a saint… and he was _definitely_ no saint.

It wasn’t that Atlas didn’t have its perks… a certain Ace Operative had recently made it to the top of that list… but it was like a big ol’ cage in the sky and the more Qrow thought about it, the more he just wanted to fly away.

Qrow reached his door and sighed. It had gotten to him a little bit more than he wanted to admit today. He knew that they were safer here. He knew that it was The Right Thing To Do… but seeing the kids slot so seamlessly into the Atlas military machine made him feel about a thousand things all turned up to eleven.

_Maybe I_ should _go for a fly. Just lose myself in that reckless, heady rush of bliss…_

He felt the frustration welling up in his chest. His legs twitched with a restless thrum and he suddenly realised what he needed. He needed to work his body until he had nothing left. Burn that giddy twinge of rage with pure effort. Pour it into his fists and then pound it into something hard and unforgiving.

So he let his arm fall and headed to the training room to earn himself a good night’s sleep.

When the door slid open he was surprised to see there was a program already running. Blue light bathed the shining floor and the looming block towers cast overlapping geometric shadows. He’d checked his scroll on the way over and the room had not been booked. He was just about to turn on his heel and head off when a familiar voice rang out from somewhere above.

“Don’t go on my account.” Clover appeared at the top of a tower, Kingfisher slung over one shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. I can always come back later…”

The rod swished in the air and the hook sailed out, looping around a tall column. The captain swung around effortlessly, executed a single perfect flip, then landed in front of Qrow, compacting Kingfisher with a casual flourish.

_Show off._

He met those clear teal eyes and the rest of his brain suddenly caught up to the fact that Clover was _out of uniform._

_I’ve never seen him out of uniform…_

A dark green singlet and simple pair of damp black sweat pants did the man a whole lot of favours.

Qrow _tried_ to be professional. He _tried_ to keep his eyes up. He couldn’t _help_ but notice the damp sheen on tan skin, sweat beading lightly on strong arms, a little line of moisture running down between his defined pecs…

“I was just finishing up anyway,” Clover said, snapping Qrow out of his daze, “unless… you’d like to get a little action first?”

Qrow swore he could feel the effort as Cloves grabbed onto that wink with both hands and held it back.

_Action_.

He rolled the word around in his mind.

It felt pretty good.

“Depends what you had in mind.”

They watched each other, silently daring the other to take that next step. To break first.

“I could use a sparring partner if you’re up for it?” Clover said, casually twirling Kingfisher over the back of his knuckles and catching it.

_Up for it?_

_I have just discovered that I_ live _for it._

The sheen of sweat made Clover’s dark skin glow under the artificial light, it picked out every gleaming, muscled contour. His arms alone were enough to make Qrow’s breath catch. He didn’t dare look down again.

“Are _you_ up for it? You look like you’ve had a bit of a workout already,” Qrow’s traitorous eyes flicked back to that single drop running down the damp and muscled chest, _damnit_ , “…and I _was_ Vytal Festival champion…”

“ _Twice_. I know. But I guess I’m feeling…” Clover let the line hang and Qrow rolled his eyes. “…lucky.”

“What a surprise,” Qrow chuckled, “Man who literally cannot turn his luck off feels lucky. If you think that’s going to save you then you are in for a shock, soldier boy.”

“I might be more difficult to shock than you think,” Clover said.

_I swear he’s daring me to make a move..._

_Only one way to know for sure._

“Are you a sore loser? If you have delicate feelings I’d better not wipe the floor with you,” Qrow smirked.

“I’m pretty _robust_ ,” Clover said, with a little more emphasis than was strictly necessary. 

“ _Good_ ,” Qrow wrapped his lips around the word. “I guess a little sparring could be fun…” he pulled Harbinger from his back.

“You’re not going to warm up!?” Clover asked, aghast.

Qrow sniggered. For all his military grade sass and weaponised flirting, he really was just a sweet lil’ rookie at heart. _Man’s so used to being stuck up in Atlas he thinks it’s normal to have time to stretch out your hammies before a brawl._

_Cute_.

“I think I’m hot enough,” Qrow said, daring the man to argue.

Clover smiled and waited a beat. A little bit of mischief tugged at his lips, “Just thinking of your health you know… that last Vytal win was quite some time ago…”

_Oh now you’re in for it, boy scout._

Qrow stepped forward, closing the gap between them and swung up one leg, resting his ankle effortlessly on Clover’s shoulder. Glaring meaningfully into those teal orbs he leaned forward until he was in standing splits, “This warm enough for you?” he asked. He could feel a little shudder tingle all the way through Clover’s body, longing and suppressed energy coursing through the air between them.

“It _is_ getting rather hot in here…” Clover said slowly, his eyes never leaving Qrow’s.

“So if you’ve quite finished mothering me,” Qrow swung his leg back down and hefted Harbinger to his other hand, “maybe we can spar?”

“Bring it on,” Clover grinned.

Qrow met that cocky gaze head on and swept his bangs out of his face. He pressed a lever and Harbinger burst into sword form. Clover flicked his wrist and Kingfisher extended and he began to spin it idly.

“You ready for me, lucky charm?”

“ _Let’s find out_.”

Clover squared his stance and shifted his weight to his back foot. There was a split second of vulnerability when his centre of balance shifted… and Qrow had a point to prove. He surged forward and went low, sweeping a leg out to catch Clover’s shins. He got in a glancing blow but Cloves flipped backwards, handspringing out of the reach of the razor edge which was close behind.

A glint of metal twinkled in the corner of his eye and Qrow deflected the hook, sending it sailing back towards Clover’s head. One strong hand grabbed the line, Clover changed his grip and the flexible end of Kingfisher whipped towards him. Qrow went high this time, leaping over the metal arc and twisting in the air. He used momentum and a little helping hand from gravity, pouring all his strength into a downward blow. He hit the ground between Clover’s feet just as he leapt away and a shower of concrete blew out around them, raining down in heavy chunks.

Clover flipped back and his foot caught a jagged piece of stone, sending it hurtling towards Qrow’s chest. A quick step-hop and he kicked it away, twisting in the air as a loop of fishing line snaked around his wrist. Clover sunk his boots in and yanked and Harbinger flew, spinning up into the air. _You think you’ve got me, hmmm?_ Qrow jerked hard on the line, pulling Clover in, chest to chest. For a second their eyes met and Qrow was bathed in the scent of cologne and fresh sweat… then the sword fell point-down and the Ace Op had to jump away to avoid being skewered on the spot.

_Man has some moves,_ Qrow mused as he shook the fishing line from his wrist. He clicked the mechanism and Harbinger slid smoothly into scythe mode. _Alright then. Let’s get serious._

He gave the man a grin and held up one finger, beckoning him to make a move.

Clover smirked at the cocky gesture and retracted his line. Just as the hook was about to lift from the floor he threw his arm out and the line swung around a column and snagged. Qrow raised an eyebrow and Clover hefted the rod over his shoulder, ripping the entire structure out of the ground and sending debris flying. A few quick snap kicks cleared Qrow’s line of sight and the scythe took care of a particularly large block but in the split-second he’d been distracted, Cloves had vanished. Qrow turned on his heel fast… but not quite fast enough. Pure instinct had him swinging the scythe behind him. He felt heavy boots impact the blade and he went flying. He threw Harbinger out in front of him as he twisted through the air, landing on the handle and carving a deep trench in the floor as the drag slowed his momentum.

_Not bad at all,_ he grinned down.

He stepped down lightly and pulled the jagged arc of metal from the floor. He swung the scythe above his head enjoying the feeling of burning muscles… the blood pounding in his chest… breath hot and shallow. Then he was ready for more. Clover met the first blow easily, the sound of metal on metal ringing out into the empty space. Qrow swung his whole body in a swirling arc, one foot, two feet, the curved back of his blade... he twisted on his heel and reversed his grip. Harbinger swung out and a gleaming arc carved the air. Clover lifted Kingfisher above his head and caught the strike, the force cracking the ground beneath his feet. Qrow swept out a leg and Clover dodged… right into the crushing uppercut lined up with his jaw. The captain executed a neat combat roll and sprung to his feet. He raised one hand and ran his thumb lightly over his jaw as his aura flickered.

Qrow grinned.

_Nothing like a bit of hand to hand to get the blood pumping…_

The line sung in the air and Qrow just managed to kick the hook away in time. Clover leapt, closing the distance between them and too late he felt the hook snag on his cape. Clover lifted his elbow and Qrow tried to dodge away but the fishing line was caught around him. A hand struck his shoulder, sending him spinning and tangling him up even more. He twitched his wrist, firing both barrels at point blank. Clover threw himself away and his desperate leap pulled Qrow with him. Qrow popped off another shot, hoping that the recoil would slow their momentum. It didn’t. He tried to dig Harbinger into the floor but his arms were all tangled up in line. They slammed together, rolled twice and then thumped into the bottom of a standing block in a crumpled heap.

“I guess it’s a draw then,” Clover laughed, from somewhere under Qrow’s boots.

“Bad luck,” Qrow chuckled as he tried to get to his feet. He was mostly lying on top of Clover and was completely wrapped in fishing line. Struggling seemed to just be making the knots tighter.

“ _Good luck_ ,” Clover corrected, moving his hand just a little where it was nestled between Qrow’s knees.

Qrow’s breath hitched as he realised just how close they were… just how much of Clover was pressed firmly into his back. He could feel the fingers skirting softly on the inside of his leg just-but-only-just above his knee and the hard pressure of a hip digging into his back. Probably a hip.

“Ok, just stay still and I’ll untangle us,” Clover said. And agonisingly slowly, he walked his fingers up and around Qrow’s thigh, leaving a tingling trail of singing nerves behind every light caress. He could feel Clover wiggling but he couldn’t tell what he was doing, aside from the occasional elbow or knee popping into the corner of his vision. Clover’s body was so hard and warm underneath him… every contour pressed achingly close and slowing rubbing against his skin. After a couple of painfully intimate minutes which felt all at once too long and _nowhere near_ long enough, Clover said “Ok, you should be able to sit up now.”

Qrow raised his body and they both turned in, sitting face to face on the cold surface of the training room floor, legs still entangled.

Qrow looked out into the room. Blue lights blinked down onto the rubble.

“How long was that do you think?” Clover asked.

“Only a few minutes,” Qrow huffed with laughter.

“Maybe we should call it a day before we demolish the place,” Clover said softly. Qrow turned back to him and their eyes met, sending a little shiver of sparks dancing up Qrow’s spine. Clover lifted his hands, one last coil of fishing wire between his calloused fingers. He leaned forward and drew one arm up to unravel the last metre of line from around Qrow’s shoulders. Qrow dipped his head to make it easier for him and Clover stopped, his arm draped over Qrow’s shoulder… so close he could feel the warmth in Clover’s breath.

“You were right,” Clover said, his gaze flicking down to Qrow’s lips.

“I’m often right… you’ll have to be a little more specific,” Qrow turned his head just a little closer.

“You are _definitely_ hot enough,” Clover sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, long lashes slowly rising as he met Qrow’s gaze.

“And you do seem quite… _robust_ …” Qrow huffed, bringing one hand up to that hard jaw. Just as he was about to pull Clover in and taste those lips, he grinned.

He had a brief flash of Clover’s startled expression as he kicked off the block, pulling Clover into a roll with the wire he’d managed to loop around his wrist as they talked. He landed with a thump on the captain’s chest and grinned down into wide teal eyes.

“Much better,” Qrow smiled, one lazy finger circling on that muscled chest.

“Vytal festival champion, hmmm?” Clover said.

“ _Twice_ ,” Qrow grinned.

“You cheat in those fights too?” Clover asked, one judgmental brow raised.

“Absolutely,” Qrow winked, wriggling his hips just a little.

Clover closed his eyes and took a slow in breath.

“Qrow…” one large hand clasped the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric.

“Yeah, boy scout?”

“Are you _up for it?_ ”

Qrow let his fingers slowly circle the tantalising bump in Clover’s singlet that was one hard nipple.

Clover bucked his hips just a little and a soft lustful, “hmmm…” escaped his lips.

“That depends… you ready for me, lucky charm?”

Clover opened his eyes, a wicked smile spreading across his face, “ _Let’s find out_.”

\---xxx---


End file.
